


Off Call

by Dameceles



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday Fluff, Co-workers, Cooking, Domestic, F/M, Family, Festivals, Ficlet, Fluff, Lunar New Year, Married Couple, Slice of Life, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dameceles/pseuds/Dameceles
Summary: Quiet moments are rare in a bustling city like Shirazaki, but Hinoka and Marx find some nonetheless. [ficlet series, Modern AU set in Hoshido] Newest: Hinoka remembers Father's Day and tries to cheer Marx up.





	1. elavator going down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long day for Nurse Hinoka when she meets someone in the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter inspired by [Missyunfa’s lovely art](http://missyunfa.tumblr.com/post/151482774754/30-days-of-otp-day-1-medical-play).

Vapid music played overhead as the elevator steadily lowered. Looking at her wavy reflection in its door, Hinoka ignored the dark smudges under her eyes and blew at her bangs. She'd been on shift since three o'clock that morning and it'd been an ugly day that had left her feeling the same.

Glancing again at herself, she noticed that her cap was askew and sighed. Personally, she found that article of clothing entirely decorative and more than a little annoying to constantly monitor. However, it acted as an identifier and was required— just like the short-skirted dress and gartered stockings. The official uniform for female nurses certified by Hoshido was old fashioned. There were many times she wished that scrubs like students wore were allowed instead. However, so long as pompous men from the old guard donated the majority of the hospital's funding it'd remain just a wish.

Shoving aside her misgivings, Hinoka used the elevator's reflection as a mirror to right the cap, aligning her hairpins to keep the Hoshidan crest centered.

On the third floor the elevator slowed to a stop and its doors peeled open with metallic squeaks. Hinoka felt her tired eyes widen and the line of her mouth curve at the familiar face. Marx stepped into the elevator, the florescent lighting overhead was unflattering on his pale complexion and made him look wane. 

Rather than selecting a destination on the panel, he simply stood close beside Hinoka. Only when the door slid shut did Marx speak, "Going down to the parking garage?"

Hinoka nodded. “I forgot my lunch in the car. But I’m on break, so might as well go get it.”

"It's against protocol to wear uniforms outside of the clinical area," he said, but his tone was far from serious. 

"The changing facilities here stink,” she replied tartly. “I'd rather not use them until I'm ready to go home.”

At her last word, Marx finally turned his head and smiled. He reached to loosely loop an arm about her waist. Even through the fabric of her dress, she felt the warmed metal of the wedding ring on his finger— its weight still new and exciting when her husband touched her.

They'd met while both staffing the same teaching hospital, he’d been an international student from Nohr come to Shirazaki for the better medical training. She'd asked him out on a date, and he'd proposed after graduation. It’d only been a little over a month since their honeymoon. They were both working, again at the same location, she as a nurse practitioner and he as a doctor in his first year of the residency training program.

Their schedules this week had been near-opposites. Seeing Marx awake and alert, after days of falling asleep alone then waking up and leaving him asleep in their bed, lifted her spirits. Even when she felt worn out and unpretty, he looked at her like she was beautiful and made her feel that way.

“How many hours are left in your shift?” Marx asked.

Her feet ached from standing for eight hours already, so she leaned against him. “Three left, I’m pulling twelve hours today.”

The subtle brush of his fingers turned into blatant squeezing. “You’re taking a late lunch.”

Hinoka resisted rolling her eyes at his overprotectiveness. “My reliever didn’t arrive ‘til now. So save the lecture for Asama.”

He made a noise of understanding, having already been subjected to weeks of her complaints about her co-worker. His understanding and unspoken support had her smiling. Yet as much as Hinoka wanted to stay leaning against her husband, she made herself ask, “Are you really going to follow me to the parking garage?”

Marx nodded. “To the car and back.”

“Security might complain if they catch us both in uniform.” Before he could reply Hinoka hooked her fingers in the knot of his tie and tugged it apart.

“Now I just look sloppy,” Marx complained. Rather than reaching up to retie it, he shrugged off the long lab coat and placed it over her shoulders. “There, close the front and it’s not truly a proper uniform you’re wearing.”

Hinoka was tempted to tell him it made her look sloppy, the size far too large for her frame. But the white fabric was warm from his body heat and its collar faintly smelled of his tea tree shampoo. So she did as he said, gathered it close and allowed herself to lean on Marx for the rest of the elevator ride.


	2. hanabi matsuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While attending a summer festival, Marx finds something nostalgic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter inspired by [Missyunfa's art](http://missyunfa.tumblr.com/post/151846183939/day-2-hanabi-who-doesnt-like-summer-festive-with), the details are so good!

"This festival isn't in celebration of anything?"

"Nope, it's just a fireworks festival because it's summer."

Marx made a noise of understanding, though it had notes closer to bemusement than how he sounded when pleased. Hinoka wondered if it was because there were very few holidays in Nohr, if the idea of partying just for the sake of it was what bothered her husband. On a mutual day off, this was the first festival they'd attended together as newlyweds. They'd gone to a handful while dating, but in casual clothes. 

This time, Marx had agreed to wear traditional Hoshidan fashion for the occasion. Despite being unfamiliar with the clothing he moved well in the robe, the fabric flowing with his smooth movements. The dark blue honeycomb patterned yukata suited her husband's pale coloring. Hinoka's own cream yukata was patterned with sakura and camellia blossoms, a gift from her sister. It’d seemed an appropriate choice to go with their mother’s kanzashi. 

Resisting the urge to touch the delicate hair decoration, she instead looked to their surroundings. They were currently walking hand-in-hand while taking in the changes to main street— now lined with stalls, food stands, and games. The traditional paper lanterns lighting all of them up made for a dreamy glow under the dark nighttime sky.

"What're those?"

Marx pointed to a nearby foodstand which had a sign reading _Ringo Ame_. Confection sellers was part and parcel for festivals, so it wasn't a surprising sight. Hinoka preferred to buy bags of bite-sized candied fruits like grapes or strawberries, but the stall Marx had singled out featured a larger ware. 

She answered, "Those're candied apples."

"I thought as much. They make them in Nohr too, though I was a kid when I last had one." He sounded nostalgic, something that was very rare for him.

That tone had her tugging him over to the foodstand and cajoling until he agreed to buy— though just one. He seemed to have intended it to be for her, so Hinoka carried the treat by its stick. Yet his gaze kept drifting towards it as they moved back into the busy street, so she held it up in offering.

"Have some." Marx shook his head, but she insisted. "C'mon, just one bite! You can tell me if it tastes like you remember."

Marx gently laid a hand on her shoulder and leaned, the weight of him comfortably familiar. He dipped his head, set his teeth, then with one strong bite pierced through the hard candy shell and into the juicy apple. His eyes fluttered closed as he chewed, and though he wasn't the type to moan over food she knew he was savoring the taste. Although Marx'd never admitted to apples being his favorite, Hinoka had seen similar savoring whenever he ate this particular fruit.

It had her teasing, "Are you sure you don't want this all to yourself?"

Marx's eyes opened. He gave her _a look_ along with quirked brow. The only thing preventing his own quip was the fact that he was still chewing. 

The motion had her noticing in the left corner of his mouth was a bit of candied shell. Hinoka couldn't help but grin as she reached up and caught the stray crumb with her thumb. Before he could do little more than widen his eyes, she'd brought her hand down and licked it up.

When Marx swallowed it was loud. "Hinoka, you're the only thing I want all to myself..."


	3. fried chicken and macedoine jellies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoshido and Nohr have very different ideas about how to celebrate Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: contains the preparation of animal's parts as food (heads and feet) thus may be a gross out factor.

Marx had been confused with how Hoshidans celebrated Christmas, almost alarmingly so for Hinoka.

When they'd first been dating and winter came, he'd asked if she was going to visit family. Mortifyingly, she'd thought that her boyfriend didn't want to take her anywhere on one of the most romantic days of the year— until Marx had explained how in Vindam he'd always gone to his father's house for Christmas. She'd had to insist that it was better if they spent the day together as a couple and explained that she'd only be heading to her parents for New Years.

Then when she'd taken him to a restaurant that specialized in fried chicken for Christmas dinner— he'd taken it as an elaborate joke! She'd been torn between delight over hearing him laugh so freely and embarrassment over how he didn't seem to understand any of this holiday's givens.

That'd been several years ago now, but the memory came to her without fail in this season. Rather than bringing home a bucket of chicken this time, she'd agreed to let Marx cook a Nohrian meal traditional for Christmas. There was something charming about her husband wanting to cook for her. Although she'd never been able to return the favor, hopeless as she was with cooking.

That was how Hinoka came to sitting on a barstool in their kitchen. Not being able to help made her restless, so she asked, "Remind me again why we scoured Shirazaki for butchers and then bought pieces of chopped up baby cows?"

"Because spotted tortoises are an endangered species." Marx kept his eyes on the pot boiling before him on the stovetop, rather than giving her an exacerbated glance to match his tone. "The face meat of the calf's head best emulates their taste for the soup."

Hinoka couldn't help but grimace over his use of terms, but made herself ask, "What was that Nohrian dish called again?"

"Mock turtle soup," he answered while adding thin strips of aforementioned meat.

He'd already spent yesterday boiling the split skulls to create stock. She'd had to leave the kitchen entirely when he'd begun to combine the calf's brains with eggs, breadcrumbs, and shaped it into balls. The poached things currently chilled in their refrigerator until he'd decide to fry them.

Hinoka forced herself not to think about the fact her husband intended to serve brain balls as part of their Christmas dinner. Instead focused on watching her husband perform him magic in the kitchen. While most of the dishes he knew how to cook were deeply Nohrian, it was more than she could manage. At best she could wash and cut vegetables— she couldn't manage to wholly debone fish when she tried to make sashimi, and anything that involved managing heat never ended well for her.

After turning the soup down to simmer, Marx retrieved a different pot from the fridge— one full of gelatin that'd been sitting since he strained out the hooves and bones yesterday. He brought it to the counter on the opposite side of the stove then proceeded to skim and put the yellow fat currently layered on top into a skillet to fry with later.

As he moved the large spoon, his muscles bunched and relaxed under the rolled sleeves of his thin sweater. The blue jeans he wore weren't tight per say, but conformed well to the equally built muscles of his lower body. Hinoka had to tug at the knitted collar of her sweater dress, feeling suddenly hot. Despite the fact that they kept their apartment's temperature on the cool side for Marx's sake.

Finally, she got off of the barstool and walked until she was just behind Marx where he stood at the counter.

Hinoka tugged on the strings of Marx's apron, although not hard enough to make the bow unravel. This article of clothing had been a gift from her to him when they'd started living together. The apron was black overall except for bold white katakana over his chest that read: _Kiss me, I'm Nohrian_.

Hinoka had bought it on impulse. Then she’d worried that it'd offend Marx to the extent that she'd almost thrown it in the trash before he could see. In the end, she'd sucked up her anxiety and handed it to him after the day of their move.

Marx hadn't been upset as she'd feared. Instead he'd put the apron on with a serious face and then demanded that she follow the written instructions. It'd been a relief and frustrating at the same time. The man could be ridiculously literal at times.

"If you distract me now, the jellies will suffer." Marx actually stopped what he was doing to look at her over his shoulder.

"That's too bad." Hinoka said as she pressed herself flush against his back, luxuriating in his firm body contrasted by the softness of the grey knit. "I'd so been looking forward to eating goop boiled out of baby cow's feet."

Her husband clicked his tongue, and might have called her spoiled under his breath. However, she recognized the mischief in his voice as he asked, "Are you unhappy with my menu, Hinoka?"

"I'm happy enough, Marx." She took a few taunting steps back. "Just not in the mood for that sort of sweet thing."

They were both all smiles as Marx lifted Hinoka onto a clear segment of the kitchen countertop and then they satisfied a different sort of appetite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How Christmas exists within an FE universe (even in modern AU) implies a lot of things... but I mostly wanted to see these two having seasonal fun. Did you know KFC and Christmas go hand-in-hand in Japan? (I can't not laugh)
> 
> Mock turtle soup, brain balls, and home-made gelatin are all Victorian dishes that I discovered in the documentary _Fannie's Last Feast_. Sorry if it grossed you out, but the idea of really eating every part you can manage to cut down on wastage— it sounds like a Nohrian mindset to me.
> 
> Belated happy holidays!


	4. red envelope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinoka introduces Marx to loud and quiet ways to start the new year, Hoshidan style.

New Years had always been a family affair. The entire extended Byakuya family traveled to their estate in Shirazaki, and turned the usually picturesque building into a madhouse for the three days of celebration. When they’d simply been dating Hinoka had never brought Marx, wanting to spare him from her rowdier relatives and rooms crammed full of people. But her father wouldn’t accept any excuses now that they were married.

So they’d managed to get the holiday off, and here they were surrounded by unending food, loud music, and louder people. 

It’d been a whirlwind of introductions since they’d arrived— every second cousin and great aunt wanting to meet her foreign husband for the first time. Marx had managed to keep a brave front, but she could tell it’d tested his limits by the way he refused to be more than an arm’s length away from her. Half-way through the second day his newness faded a bit, and her family had stopped coming out of the woodwork to ask him questions.

Yet even with this break, Marx seemed a bit harried by all the firecrackers people kept casually lighting out front in the drive way. He flinched and stepped up as if to shield her every time the loud pops started. So after she’d coaxed him into eating a plate’s worth of dumplings, Hinoka had taken him by the hand and led him to a less populated place in the big, old house.

It took a few moments after she’d shut the door behind them, but the tension in Marx’s shoulders visibly lessened once he’d noticed that they were alone in the small room and how quiet it was. He glanced to her, and Hinoka gave a reassuring smile. “I don’t know how long it’ll take before my brothers or sister comes looking, but we can rest here in the meantime.”

“Thank you,” Marx said nodding. He then turned to look more closely at their surroundings. What they were in was essentially a storage closet, piled with all the extra elements of the supplies needed for the celebrations sans fireworks and ingredients.

She watched as his perusal stopped on stacks of red envelopes embossed with a long-feathered rooster in gold. It’s been a long time since she’d last been given one, but she could remember her favorite design— a rearing horse all in black. Marx carefully picked one up, the shape of it even smaller in his big hand. 

“It’s for lucky money. When you’re young and unmarried you receive it from older, married family members in these envelopes.” Hinoka answered before he could ask. “When we have a kid, once they’re out of diapers I expect we’ll be seeing these envelopes at this time of year.”

“…oh?” Marx’s tone was all too curious as he looked at her with dark eyes.

She felt her face heating with an embarrassed blush. “Y’know, when we’re ready. Despite what my dad keeps insisting, he can wait on grandchildren for a few more years.”

Marx chuckled under his breath, but Hinoka didn’t fight him as he drew her in with an arm about her shoulders. When he asked her to explain the concept in more detail, she happily told him about the Hoshidan tradition. How wrapping money in red envelopes bestows more prosperity and blessings on the receivers, alongside wishes for a safe and peaceful year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that Japan does not celebrate the Lunar New Year like other parts of Asia does. However, Hoshido has a Great Wall which is decidedly Chinese- so I decided to fantasy!Asian means I can fudge it for fun. I also had Hinoka mention New Years last chapter, so foreshadowing.


	5. birthday girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Hinoka's birthday and she finds some celebrations more tiring than others.

Hinoka had worked a full shift at the hospital before her family'd decided that a surprise birthday dinner was precisely what she wanted. Of course they'd picked a five-star restaurant and she'd had to get all gussied up, putting on heels when her feet were already aching from standing all day. Admittedly the food had been delicious, especially since she hadn't had to pay for it. Yet having waved goodbye to her father and siblings, Hinoka found herself staring at the apartment stairs unable to make herself walk up it.

Instead she sat down on them and sat there long enough, that it was where Marx found her after having arrived home from work. He cocked his head when he took in her state of dress. "Did we have reservations I forgot about?"

"Noooooooo," Hinoka did her best not to groan. "But my father did at Seven Sanct."

Marx gave a low whistle. "Expensive."

"Fancy." Hinoka countered, then hung her head. "I'm tired. I don't want to walk in these heels, but I'd scream if I tore my pantyhose."

Staring at her own lap as she was, Hinoka didn't see how he reached down— instead was shocked as he swept her up in his arms in a bridal carry. Without another word he began to ascend the staircase towards their apartment. Hinoka wrapped her arms about his neck then pressed her face against his shoulder, likely smearing her mascara and lipstick all over the fabric of his jacket. Her husband didn't protest or even try to shrug her off. Simply kept climbing the stairs, so she didn't have to.

When they finally reached their door, Marx didn't even put her down. Instead angling himself so that his hand with the keys could reach the doorknob. It was soon finagled and kicked closed behind him. Hinoka peeked up enough to see that they were headed towards the bedroom, and she had to keep in another groan over expectations vs her tiredness. 

However, Marx proved better as he said, "The next episode from Ribald Tales of the Faith Wars is available for streaming. You should change into something comfortable, then we'll watch that."

"I love you," Hinoka muffled against him.

This time Marx did move her, hands shifting until he kissed her head. "Anything for the birthday girl."


	6. Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helping Sakura make Valentine chocolate for her crush has Hinoka nostalgic.

It was relatively quiet in the apartment that morning, only the scantest noises of traffic drifting up from the streets outside. No longer did the whir and click of cooking utensils ring out from the kitchen, even if a mess of dirty dishes, used molds, and drips of melted chocolate had been left behind. It was all ignored as Sakura finished putting on her shoes and Hinoka handed over the collection boxed and gift-wrapped chocolates.

Sakura had come over in the early hours to make Valentine chocolates, since her dorms didn't even offer a kitchenette for student use. Hinoka and Marx's apartment was located much closer to campus than their family's estate, and it was good quality sister bonding time that was so much harder to find as adults. Her little sister had always taken gifting seriously, but this day had a special one to give.

"T-thanks again for letting me use your kitchen, Hinoka." Sakura managed to give her a worried look over the pile in her arms. "Are you sure I s-shouldn't stay? I c-could help you clean."

Hinoka shook her head. "No, I can handle it. Get going so you aren't late for class or handing any of those out."

"Do you need a ride?" Marx asked from the bedroom doorway. Although dressed, he was still toweling his damp hair dry.

Sakura ducked her head. "No, thank you. I-I've got one."

Just as she finished saying it, the phone in her purse gave a chirping chime. Hinoka opened the front door and peered over the banister at the parking lot below, quickly spying a familiar red, sports car. It had her grinning at her blushing, little sister and wishing good luck as Sakura hurried down the stairs. The moment she stepped onto the sidewalk proper, the driver of the car got out— his red hair only a few shades darker than the bright paint of his car. Saizou didn't delay in stepping around his car and opening the passenger side door for her sister. Sakura's face was blushing even more brightly as her mouth moved with words Hinoka was unable to make out at a distance.

"Is that really her crush?" Marx's voice make her jump; she hadn't noticed him come out to stand beside her.

"Don't call it that, makes her sound like a kid." Marx raised a skeptical eyebrow, but she ignored him. They both watched Sakura duck into the passenger side then watched Saizou close door, walk around and get behind the wheel, then back up and driver out of their apartment's parking lot. Only after the red car was out of sight, did Hinoka respond, "And yes, Sakura likes Saizou and plans on asking him out today."

"With those chocolates you helped her make?" Marx's brow rose higher.

Hinoka rolled her eyes. "I only handled putting together and wrapping the boxes, don't worry."

"Good. Nothing kills the mood like food poisoning." She lightly smacked him on the arm, but he hardly flinched, instead asking, "Doesn't he work for your father's company? Wasn't he in the same graduating class as Ryouma?"

Hinoka shrugged. "Yeah, there's an age gap, but my family knows and trusts Saizou."

That hadn't been the case for Marx. Hinoka recalled when she'd first them about her new boyfriend how suspicious her father and brothers had been over a foreigner dating her, convinced the man was trying to use her— for her inheritance, to get a green card, all sorts of accusations. She'd fired right back at them for being stuck in the status quo and too quick to judge those who looked different; it'd remained strained that first year of dating.Things had settled after Marx had stuck around for a few years and family had bothered to get to know him, but she was glad her little sister wouldn't have to endure similar suspicions.

Hinoka also recalled the first time she'd met Marx. She had been confused by his accent, his mannerisms, his appearance— basically, all his foreignness. Marx however, more than pulled his weight whenever they were given rounds or an assignment. So when he'd asked her out to coffee, after a few weeks when they’d gotten off around three-o-clock, she’d said yes and then next day had invited him to tea. Now they were husband and wife, and Hinoka had a hard time picturing what her life would be like without him.

Taking his hand in hers, Hinoka waited until Marx was looking at her then said, "Hey... we should go back in so you can unwrap your Valentine's Day gift."

The way Nohrians celebrated this holiday was different from all the exchanged of chocolates Hinoka had grown up with, Marx didn't even like to wait until White Day to get her a present in return. So they'd come up with a compromise, one that required less shopping and more quality time together. She felt a blush rise in her face at the way Marx's gaze became dark and hooded, yet he had the gall to argue, "I haven't given you roses yet."

"I don't need flowers, just want you." He hummed curiously; Hinoka laughed a little as she stood on her tip toes to give him a kiss. 


	7. Dad Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinoka remembers Father's Day and tries to cheer Marx up.

Hinoka might’ve entirely forgotten about the Nohrian holiday for honoring one’s father. That is, if she’d hadn’t come back to her husband sitting in their apartment with all the lights off, watching television while eating ice cream straight out of the container. And finally remembering the date, Hinoka knew it had to be because he’d made an international phone call to his father— and like always, Garon had spectacularly disappointed.

Leaning against the back of the couch, she glanced away from her husband to the glowing screen. It was their favorite show to watch and turn their brains off: Ribald Tales of the Faith Wars. The episode playing was a rerun, so it was likely that Marx had sat down with the pint of frozen dairy and binge-watched the series early seasons. The ice cream’s flavor, fruit-cluster double strawberry, meant Marx was in a _mood_.

Keeping her tone light, she said, “So you called, and Garon was his usual self.”

Marx grunted confirmation around a mouthful, his eyes not leaving the television. He swallowed then gestured to it, asking, “Why can’t our relationship be like this?”

Glancing at the scene currently playing, Hinoka asked, “You mean a relationship comprised of your father escaping imprisonment, fleeing his captors, only to die in your arms after a dramatic speech and parting gift?”

“Yes.”

On screen the young hero sobbed over his recently deceased father, looking perfectly handsome and dramatically overwrought. 

“Well, I for one am glad our life isn’t anything like this show. I would’ve hated being kidnapped, brainwashed, and tricked into marrying someone else.”

“It would’ve been Leo for irony’s sake.”

Hinoka thought about Marx’s younger brother— his pretty face, smug arrogance, smarter-than-thou habit in correcting others —and shuddered. “Don’t even joke about that. It’d be like marrying a blonder Takumi, I couldn’t. Besides, Leo hardly wants to put you to the torch.”

“Hmm,” Marx intoned speculatively, as if he couldn’t deny the possibility that his brother disliked him enough to commit arson and fratricide.

“Your brother doesn’t hate you, Marx.”

“He was mad that I left… that I came here.”

“He was younger then, angrier. You’re doing your best to take care of him and Elise, I’m sure Leo understands that.” Despite her sincerity her words didn’t seem to be penetrating him self-effacing gloom, so Hinoka voiced a hard truth. “Better than leaving them in Garon’s non-existent care.”

Marx’s brow furrowed low and he viciously stabbed the ice-cream with his spoon. 

It taken a long time for her husband to open up about his past, he’d had a difficult childhood and didn’t like to talk about it. He might not have even told Hinoka if Camilla hadn’t visited before the wedding and metaphorically strong-armed him into explaining why their father wouldn’t be attending. Compared to her own family and experiences, it could be called dysfunctional, and despite his usual confidence her husband was self-conscious about the stigma. If nothing else Hinoka resented Garon Anya for being able to throw Marx into morose moods, let alone for being a terrible human being.

“I think you should give my father a call.” She said, then snatched the mostly emptied pint from his hands.

Marx frowned, but mostly sounded confused. “…Sumeragi?” 

“Yes. While Father’s Day isn’t really a thing here, he’d be over the moon that you’d remembered him.” Her husband had a thoughtful look though still appeared reluctant, so she said, “It’d also be something he’d needle my brothers over for the rest of the month, or likely, all year.”

“Hand me the phone.”

Hinoka grinned and kissed Marx’s cheek, before fetching the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentioned the TV series [Ribald Tales of the Faith Wars in Chapter 5,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243405/chapters/26735823) its title is a reference to [the Robin/Sumia supports](https://serenesforest.net/wiki/index.php/Awakening_Supports/Sumia_Avatar\(M\)). I'm guessing it was an oblique allegory for FE4, so just shoved as many jugdral in-jokes as I could in here.
> 
> But yeah, Garon's just as bad dad in this verse as in canon.


End file.
